‘I made it,’ I said. I left out explaining that I’d learned to crochet from my mother and that crochet had been my first go-to when I’d been stuck trying to write his letter. I had an image to keep.
‘So you have other talents besides writing letters for people like me.’ He smiled a little sheepishly. ‘Now why exactly am I watching this movie?’ he asked, as I led him down the hall to the dining room.
‘Sally seems to have a soft spot for romantic comedies and when she mentioned her favorites, I noticed Hugh Grant was in all of them. I’m not telling you to pretend to be like him, but I thought it would give you an idea of what she likes.’
He seemed thoughtful. ‘I don’t know about that. I have enough trouble being myself without trying to be someone else.’
‘There, you got it before you even watched the movie,’ I said with a laugh.
‘Got what?’ he asked clearly perplexed.
‘Being vulnerable and a little self-deprecating with just a touch of humor.’
He bowed his head. ‘I thought that was a bad thing. Aren’t guys supposed to be powerful and in charge?’
‘Says who? I’m not telling you to be anything other than who you are. I just noticed that you have a quality that I think Sally will find appealing,’ I said.
‘You’re good. I would never have figured that was a plus. I’m glad I got over being embarrassed about needing help.’ He sat down on the sofa against the wall and I handed him the remote.
‘It’s all cued up for you,’ I said.
I went down the hall to my office. I’d printed up a copy of the letter and if he okayed it, we could talk about how to get it to Sally. I had an idea, but I wasn’t sure he’d go for it.
There was a knock at the door. The fact it was a knock and not the bell meant it was probably a neighbor and I was pretty sure I knew which one. Sara was very neighborly. Being a stay-at-home mom with a toddler got to her and occasionally she needed an adult to converse with. Her husband was a pharmacist at the local Walgreens and since they were open twenty-four hours, he often worked odd shifts. And of course, Ben was her brother. I couldn’t imagine him being much help in the conversation department.
‘I know this sounds corny, but could I borrow a cup of sugar?’ Sara said. ‘I really am making something, and I ran out.’ She had that frazzled mom look. There were some streaks of flour on her black leggings and, I suspected, on the oversized white T-shirt that proclaimed that she was Supermom.
‘Quentin and Mikey are watching TV together. It’s really sweet and it gave me a few minutes for myself,’ she said, as I invited her in. She glanced down the hall at the sound of the movie drifting from the dining room. ‘I didn’t realize you had company,’ she said. ‘A date?’
‘It’s a client,’ I said. ‘And he’s fine for now.’
‘A client for what?’ she asked. She was enthralled with what I did and particularly the love letters.
‘Sort of love letters,’ I said in a whisper and her face lit up. But her face fell when I added I couldn’t talk while he was there. I offered her a seat and took the measuring cup. Evan was deep into the movie and I don’t think he even noticed that I went through to the kitchen. When I returned with the sugar, she made no move to get up, so I sat down with her.
‘So tell me how it’s going with Ben?’ she asked. I sighed, thinking of how he had sat through the Tuesday night gathering with his usual non-expression.
‘To tell you the truth, he never seems like he wants to be here. I think he’s only coming because you paid for the sessions. I don’t usually do this, but I’d be happy to give you a refund since it seems so uncomfortable for him to be here.’
She shook her head vehemently. ‘No way. He might not show it, but I do think he likes coming to the group. I know my brother and if he didn’t like it, gift or not, he simply wouldn’t show up. He doesn’t tell me much and as far as I can tell his social life seems to be drinking beer with other cops. All they do is tell horrible dark stories they think are funny.’ She made a face of distaste. ‘Ben wouldn’t want me to tell you anything about him, but I’m going to anyway. He got a divorce last year. I never got any details. He was married and then he wasn’t. After that it seemed like he shut down emotionally.’ She hesitated and looked down at the sparkly white sugar granules in the measuring cup for a moment and then looked at me. ‘You’re single and he’s single.’ She shrugged helplessly. ‘I thought maybe there’d be something. Maybe he’d become teacher’s pet.’
I rolled my eyes and she laughed. ‘For someone who writes love letters, your own social life seems kind of barren.’
I held my finger to my lips to shush her. It wasn’t something I’d want Evan to hear. But of course she was right. There was a reason I’d stopped my mental movie with the shot of me in my wedding attire. I didn’t want to think about what came after. I’d been just twenty-one and, in hindsight, an idiot. I’d actually thought that if Larry and I got married somehow everything would just work out. Ha! It had only got worse. He’d felt trapped and spent all his time hanging out with his friends. And I’d found out that one person couldn’t make a relationship work and we got a divorce. There had been some boyfriends since then, but after what happened with Larry, I’d been a little gun-shy about getting involved in anything serious.
‘If that’s why you pushed him to come, I’ll give you a check right now.’ I got up to get my checkbook, but she gestured for me to sit down.
‘The real reason I gave him the sessions was because I thought he’d like them. I was just hoping there’d be some kind of bonus in it for both of you. Being a cop probably isn’t the best job for him. Things just roll off some of them, I guess. Not Ben.’ She stopped abruptly. ‘That’s all I can say. If he knew I even told you about the divorce he’d never talk to me again.’ She shrugged. ‘He barely tells me anything as it is. Whatever I hear comes from his partner.’
‘As long as you understand that’s not going to happen,’ I said, easing back into the chair.
She nodded as if she agreed, but something in her expression made me think she wasn’t giving up. ‘Then tell me what else you’re working on. My days are filled with everything Mikey. When Quentin comes home, he’s wiped out and mostly wants to crash in front of TV. I need to hear about the outside world.’
Without revealing any names, I told her about Rachel and what had happened to her. ‘I started collecting stories for the piece I’m going to write. From the outside, it seems like she had it all.’
‘Wow, that’s really sad. A newlywed with a job she loved and a fabulous apartment. It would seem she had everything to live for. You really think it was suicide?’
‘I’ve thought about it a lot and, honestly, I’m not completely sure, but it seems like that’s what her husband thinks and could be why her mother is trying to cover it up.’
‘You have to wonder what would make her feel so desperate.’
‘That’s what I intend to find out,’ I said. ‘Her husband made a comment to me that it was too bad that I hadn’t stayed in touch with her after the wedding – that she could have used a friend.’
‘Ouch,’ Sara said. ‘So you feel guilty, huh?’ I nodded, and she tried to reassure me it wasn’t my fault. I heard her phone bing and she read a text, making a face. ‘Quentin said Mikey’s diaper needs changing. Men,’ she said with a groan as she stood. ‘But speaking of men, in another way. I’m sure Ben would be glad to offer any cop help with your investigation. I keep telling him he ought to do whatever he has to, to become a detective. He really has a natural talent.’ Then she laughed at herself. ‘OK, I’ll stop trying to push you two together. And just hope that nature takes its course.’ She winked at me before she went out the door.
‘Do you really think I’m like Hugh Grant,’ Evan said when the movie was done.
I looked him over. ‘Your teeth are definitely better.’ I smiled and he realized it was a joke. ‘I think there’s a chance that Sally will find the qualities you share
with the characters Hugh plays endearing.’
‘You just think it? I thought you were sure,’ he said suddenly worried.
‘Nothing is ever one hundred percent, but I have a good feeling about it.’ I held up the copy of the letter. ‘So then it’s a go with the letter?’
He sucked in his breath, and when he let it out, he said, ‘OK, let’s do it.’ There were a few more steps involved. Did he want to handwrite it? We could print it up. I could also do calligraphy. We went back and forth and finally decided to print it up and he would sign it.
‘Then you can leave it on her desk with a rose,’ I said.
‘Do you think that might be too much?’ he asked, seeming uncertain. ‘What would the Hugh Grant character in Notting Hill do?’ He started discussing the movie and how Julia Roberts had made the first move by kissing Hugh. Should he expect Sally to do something similar?
‘I didn’t mean for you to take the movie literally. He’s a sweet, unassuming guy and even though she’s a gorgeous, seemingly unattainable woman, underneath it she’s just a girl looking for someone to love.’ I gave it a moment to sink in. ‘He’d leave the flower and then chuckle uncomfortably when the recipient commented on it.’
‘I guess that sounds like me,’ he said. ‘I’ll go with the flower.’ He prepared to leave but before he went out the door, he added, ‘I’ll let you know if she accepts. Then I’ll give you the details so you can swing by.’
‘What? You want me to go on your date with you?’ I asked incredulous.
‘No, no. You can just view us from a distance and see how it’s going. Hugh’s character had his friends to help him. It’ll give you something to put in the next letter.’
‘Oh. I thought this was going to be a one-and-done,’ I said.
‘I never do things halfway. I’ll need you to compose letters until it’s time for you to write a proposal.’
EIGHT
‘It worked!’ an excited male voice said into the phone. Usually I was good at identifying voices, but I was just waking up.
‘Who is this? And what worked?’ I asked holding in a yawn. My type of work meant I could make my own hours which meant I rarely got up before eight. I glanced toward the window and saw that the light was still low. At this time of year before the clocks went back to standard time, the sun didn’t even come up until almost seven. I guessed it was close to eight. It was lucky for my caller that I slept with my phone next to the bed.
‘It’s me, Evan,’ the voice chirped. ‘Sally said yes.’ He sounded so happy he almost sang the words. ‘I left it with a flower just like you said. Only I went with a sunflower and I’m afraid some of the petals fell off, but she didn’t care. She sent me a note back. It was pretty basic and didn’t have any of the pizzazz mine did. All hers said was yes. Well, and she asked for the details. What do I do? Should I tell her to call you?’
I had sat up by now, knowing that my voice sounded different when I was lying down. I don’t know why I cared whether Evan knew I’d been sleeping. I guess it was an automatic reaction. It was something about wanting to seem like Superwoman with a pen, ready twenty-four-seven to fulfill your every writing need. I wrapped the comforter around me for warmth. The temperature outside was still too high for the heat in the building to come on which left the interior with a chill.
‘No,’ I said with a laugh. ‘I write love letters, but I’m not a match-maker. You could call her and tell her when to meet you and where.’
‘I don’t know about calling her. What do I say?’ An oh, no was going off in my head. If he was concerned about talking to her on the phone what was he going to do when they were together in person. While I was having my mental moment, he came up with an option. ‘Maybe I’ll text her and I could send her an e-vite for her calendar.’
It seemed a little cold to me, but then it was his date. ‘I’m sure that would work,’ I said. ‘Well, then, I guess it’s mission accomplished.’ I got ready to end the call. I hoped he’d forgotten he’d said something about wanting me to spy on his date.
‘I better send you an e-vite, too,’ he said. I could feel my face fall. So, he hadn’t changed his mind. This was a first since I’d started writing relationship notes. And I wasn’t so sure about it. Maybe if I mentioned charging him for my time, he’d rethink it.
‘Of course,’ he said when I brought up a fee. ‘This is an investment in my happiness.’ There was a sweetness in his tone, and I melted. I really wanted this to work out for him now and was glad to do anything that helped. We discussed the logistics for meeting up on Sunday, before ending the call.
The window in my bedroom looked out on the brick wall of the next building. I craned my neck to get a look at the sky and was glad to see it was blue. I dropped the comforter back onto the bed. It was time to get going on my day. After a shower, I pulled on a comfortable pair of jeans and a sweatshirt and headed to the kitchen. I put on the coffee as I thought about what lay ahead of me. I needed to get down to business and start working on Rachel’s memory book. For a moment I regretted taking the project. Helping Evan with his romance was fun and would hopefully lead to a happy ending. The memory book was another story. There was no room for fun or humor in the writing. The best I could hope for was touching. And a happy ending … not a chance. I was confused by Mrs Parker’s attitude about the whole thing. Was she keeping up appearances or was she simply not that broken up about Rachel’s death? But then relationships came in all sizes and shapes. I thought back to when I’d been helping with Rachel’s vows. Camille Parker had seemed involved with the wedding as an event, but not involved with the bride.
Maybe it was because I’d lost my mother when I was so young, but I’d always had a romanticized image of how mothers and daughters got along. I was sure that if my mother had still been around we’d be best buddies.
I took my coffee into the living room and went to open the door to the balcony to have a better look at the weather. I was surprised to feel that the air coming in from outside was warmer than inside. But not warm enough that I wanted to sit out there.
My touch with nature was watching the three mourning doves sit on the branches of the tree out front. The taupe-color birds were regular visitors and often made trips to my balcony. It was a pleasure to have leafy branches to look out into again. My street had once been lined with tall old elm trees and it had been like being in a tree house. But one by one the elms had gotten diseased and had to be removed.
The tree out front had begun as a spindly replacement that barely reached the first floor. But over the years, the small tree had filled out and grown taller and now reached all the way to the roof of the building. A breeze passed through the branches sending a flutter of the yellow-tinged leaves to the ground. Soon the branches would be naked, and snow would gather on them.
Now that I’d checked out the day, I went into my office. Like in my bedroom, the one window in my office looked out toward a brick wall, making the room rather dim. I turned on the brass student lamp with the yellow glass shades on my desk and took the bag of albums to the burgundy wing chair. This time I was determined to go through them and pick the photographs I would use. The first album started with a birth announcement and moved through Rachel’s first year. The last page had photos of her taking her first steps. I chose one that seemed to illustrate the pride she felt at her accomplishment. She was older in the second album and it covered a much longer time span. I found a photograph that I liked of her in her school uniform with a group of her friends all striking a pose. It seemed to capture a happy time in her life. There was another I liked of her on a small sailboat from her time at summer camp. She had on a T-shirt that said Boats are in My Blood. The last album was white and covered in silk. Before I even opened it, I knew it had the wedding photos. I thought about using a picture of Rachel and Luke, but instead chose one of Rachel alone. She was wearing her wedding dress and looking directly into the camera. The white silk dress was elegant and simple, cut on the bias so it seemed fluid.
Her expression was so full of hope and joy that I felt myself tearing up.
The common denominator in all of the pictures was that Rachel was always beaming. Her heart-shaped face was dominated by her smile and it was all you noticed. I went back through the wedding album and picked some additional photographs I thought I might need.
After I scanned the pictures into my computer, I packed up the albums. Mrs Parker hadn’t said anything, but I assumed she’d want them back as soon as possible. Feeling on a roll, I began to write the biography that would begin the booklet. Between what I found out from an obituary that had appeared in the Chicago Daily Times and what I’d gotten from the albums, I wrote about her life up to her wedding. There wasn’t a hint of darkness in it and I thought Mrs Parker would be happy with it.
I left the notes I’d taken when I met with the teachers to deal with another time. Looking through all the photographs and writing about her fairy tale life had left me drained. And confused. The teachers had said she seemed different when she came back in the fall. I wondered why.
Sunday turned out to be another beautiful fall day. The sky was a bright blue without a cloud. The temperature was just cool enough to require a sweater. Evan certainly had the weather on his side for his premier date. We’d talked two more times discussing the plan.
Thankfully, he didn’t actually want me to go on the date with them. It was more like I was going to play detective doing surveillance. The plan was for me to blend in with the background so that Sally wouldn’t notice me and then hang back and watch their interaction. I looked through my closet for something non-descript. I found a pair of jeans faded from years of wear and a white peasant blouse with an embroidered design along the yoke that seemed like a good choice. I threw on a charcoal gray sweater and a baseball cap and headed for Lincoln Park Zoo.
It was a small zoo, easy to get to on the bus, and was located just north of the downtown area, with a view of Lake Michigan and a harbor filled with pleasure boats. It was one of the few attractions in the city that had no entry fee. We’d agreed that I would wait for them in the rookery and then begin trailing them. The rookery, also known as the lily pond, was a perfect place to wait for them. The pond was surrounded by artfully arranged stacks of stone slabs, and lots of foliage. It attracted ducks, geese, and other birds looking for a place to hang out for a while.
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